


Why Are You Here

by kblynne



Series: Dramione Song-Fics [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol/Drinking, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Substance Abuse, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kblynne/pseuds/kblynne
Summary: I hate that I saw you again last nightYou were with somebody and so was IMet you in the bathroom at 12:05And I fucked you againWe can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeahIn the face of this Covid-19 crisis, I'm out of work for at least two weeks (I live in NY). So, I asked one of my Facebook groups to suggest songs with the promise that I'll write a one-shot Dramione fanfic inspired by the song. This is one such story.Thank you Rikki for your suggestion! I've put several days of hard work into this "one-shot" which could have easily been broken up into five whole chapters, but whatever, this song required all five scenes to tell the story, so sorry not sorry!Song: Why Are You HereArtist: Machine Gun Kelly
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione Song-Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673083
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Why Are You Here

He hadn’t expected to ever see her again. He hadn’t expected to find her here, of all places. And he sure as hell hadn’t expected to see her on the dance floor, shaking her ass on a man who was definitely not her long-time boyfriend, Ronald Weasley. Draco Malfoy was every bit the bachelor one would expect him to be at the ripe age of twenty. He was single, independently rich thanks to his aunt, and always ready to party. So when he entered the new nightclub that the owner, his old classmate Blaise Zabini, invited him to, the last witch he expected to find partying as hard as he was Hermione fucking Granger.

Draco stood at the bar, a double whiskey on the rocks in hand. There were bodies all around, loud music reverberating through the floor, and lights swirling and dancing in every shape and color, disorienting the already intoxicated patrons. And there, on the dance floor, was Granger, only she was so different that he almost wasn’t sure that it was her. Her hair was completely straight, glossy, shining in the light. It bounced and swirled around her as she danced, some of it clinging to the sweat on her forehead. She wore a short gold halter dress, which draped low enough that he could see that she wore no bra. It clung to her hips, reaching just an inch or two past the round of her backside. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing her knickers as well. He couldn’t see her feet through all the other bodies, but he imagined she must be wearing a comparably impressive pair of high heels. But perhaps the most unrecognizable feature was the makeup that she wore. She’d adorned a sparkly smokey eye, and a deep matte lip shade that drew his attention to the two plump pillows.

As he watched, she looked up and saw him. Their eyes locked, and to his surprise, she didn’t shy away. On the contrary, if he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought she was dancing just for him. She watched him watching her, a smirk playing on her lips as she taunted him with her swaying hips. Draco threw back the contents of his glass, trying to wrap his head around what he was witnessing. What was she doing in a place like this? A club like this was meant for sex and drugs and all other sorts of indecency, not a place for Harry Potter’s best friend to be seen. Despite being owned by a wizard, it was a predominantly muggle establishment. 

The hands on her body infuriated him. If anyone should be touching her like that it should be him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could watch without putting a stop to it, especially with the way she was taunting him. When she turned her back to him, one hand snaking up her partner’s neck to tease the hair on the back of his head, Draco slammed his glass onto the bar behind him. She was talking into his ear, the only way to be heard in such a place. Draco had to move to see what they were doing. The man pulled a small container from his pocket and opened it. He put it to Hermione’s nose and she inhaled deeply, her head falling back as the contents soared almost immediately into her bloodstream.

“Malfoy!” Zabini’s voice distracted him, and Draco turned to greet his friend. “You made it! What do you think?” He beamed, proud to be able to show off his booming new business.

“It’s crazy,” Draco said, and tried to look past Blaise to see Hermione, but when he did, she was gone. His eyes scanned over the room but he was unable to spot her or the stranger she was accompanying. “You said only muggles can get in here without an invitation, right?”

Blaise looked Draco over, surprised by the question. “Yes, it’s a complete secret. Why?” Blaise thought Draco looked much like he’d seen a ghost. 

“Bloody muggleborn,” Draco muttered, but Blaise couldn’t hear him.

“What was that?” he asked, but shook his head. “Come on, man, let me show you to the VIP area.” Blaise led Draco to the upper split level, just past the dance floor. “My cocktail waitresses are the sexiest bloody muggles you’ll ever see,” Blaise promised, waving one such server over. “Roxy, love, a bottle of scotch for my friend and I? You know what I like.” He winked at the girl as she walked away. “Can you believe I get to pay women to dress like that?” he asked, watching her walk away in her tiny black dress, matching pumps, and fishnets. 

Draco relaxed in the booth, taking it all in, though he couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning the dance floor in search of her. He was beginning to think he’d imagined it. Maybe it wasn’t even her. Just some muggle slag who happened to look shockingly like her. Maybe. “Living the dream, mate,” Draco answered, offering him a smirk. He had to admit, it was all very impressive. He could make all his money on loose moraled muggles while catering to the needs of the magical elite to get royally fucked up. “So it doesn’t bother you that they’re doing drugs and practically fucking on the dance floor?” he asked curiously.

Blaise laughed and leaned forward towards his mate seriously. “Isn’t that the whole point in coming here?”

Draco reached into his pocket and withdrew a monogrammed silver cigarette case, withdrawing one and putting it to his lips. He lit it with his wand just as his eyes caught a flash of gold. There she was, heading out onto the patio with the same guy he’d seen her with before. “What’s outside?” he asked.

“Another bar,” Blaise answered. “And outdoor seating for smoking and talking.” Draco couldn’t help staring, as though if he stared hard enough he could see through the walls to know what she was doing out there. “What’s gotten into you?”

Draco’s attention snapped back to Blaise. “Nothing,” Draco denied, taking a deep drag from his cigarette and letting it out. A moment later the server, Roxy, returned with a bottle on a tray with two glasses. She poured them each two fingers worth before Blaise passed her a twenty pound note and she left them again.

“See something you like?” Blaise guessed, not foolish enough to believe him when he said that there was “nothing” distracting him.

“Something like that,” Draco admitted, sipping his scotch before taking another hit of menthol and nicotine. “So, how’s Roxy in the sack?” he asked his old friend with a knowing smirk.

“Like a bloody Goddess,” Blaise boasted.

Thankfully, Blaise needed to return to running his business, leaving Draco to explore the club for himself. He caught her finally, quite literally, coming out of the restroom. He acted quickly in his surprise, a hand wrapped around her middle before she could walk away, and the action startled her. “What are you doing here?” he asked her, not meaning to sound so much like a scolding parent.

Hermione smirked and turned, leaning against the nearest wall. “I’m not allowed to have a little fun?” she asked him. Draco could tell by looking at her that she was under the influence, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of what. 

“Does that fun include this?” He asked, boldly reaching out and wiping her left nostril with his thumb. He withdrew his thumb to show it covered in white powdery residue. To his bewilderment, Hermione smirked and leaned forward, sucking the substance from the digit, her mouth lingering until she’d sucked all the saltiness from his skin. Draco felt his cock twitch with excitement at such a sultry move.

“You going to tell on me?” she asked him sweetly, before leaning up and whispering into his ear. “I’m sure I can think of some way to buy your silence.” Her had cupped his groin suddenly, and she rubbed it eagerly. 

Draco couldn’t have prevented the stiffening in his pants if he tried. “Bloody hell,” he groaned, leaning in to kiss her, but she ducked him, slipping out from under him and disappeared into the crowd again. This time Draco tailed her, hunting her down through the maze of party goers. He didn’t know where she was leading him, but he couldn’t wait to find out. Finally, she disappeared, as if into thin air, through a wall. Draco smirked. “Clever witch,” he muttered to himself, and followed suit, moving through the secret passage effortlessly. 

It was a small room, a lounge, with a broad tufted leather half-circle couch and large matching ottoman in the middle. The two pieces of furniture alone took up the majority of the space, but there was also a large fish tank filling up the majority of one wall. It was filled with all sorts of tropical fish, most of which he’d never seen before. Through the fish tank he could see the lobby where hopeful patrons lined up, waiting for their turn to enter. Having used the back entrance, Draco hadn’t seen the tank on the way in. He wondered if they could see through to the secret room.

The most spectacular feature of the room, however, was the gold-clad witch, who was seated patiently in the very center of the couch. Determined not to let her get away from him a second time, Draco dropped his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it aside, and then crossed the small room in two strides and was on top of her in an instant.

Her mouth tasted like cherries and her skin smelled of vanilla. Draco groaned as he flipped them, seating himself and pulling her onto his lap. She rolled herself against him, pressing her breasts into his chest. His hardness had already found her southern lips, and she ground herself against him eagerly. Draco took advantage of the design of her dress, pushing the material away from her breasts to free them and fondling them with great satisfaction. He pinched her nipples until they stiffened completely, before breaking his lips from hers at long last to duck down and take one of the points into his mouth. He continued to squeeze the small breast while he sucked and flicked it with his tongue.

Hermione braced one hand against the back of the couch, the other disappeared between them to pry his belt buckle loose. She threw her head back and moaned when Draco bit down on her second breast, sucking the abused flesh hard enough to draw the blood to the surface. She didn’t let it slow her in her efforts, however, in freeing him from his textile prison. She wrapped her small hand around his engorged member and stroked him immediately, rubbing her wanton pussy against him to coat him in a layer of her wetness.

Merlin, he’d been right, she was missing her knickers, and he was so fucking grateful. She lifted herself and encased him without hesitation, impaling herself on him for her own satisfaction. She began to ride him, and Draco had never felt so lucky. His lips found hers again as he bucked into her, matching her. Soon she buried her head in his shoulder, panting and moaning as her climax grew nearer and nearer. With his hands gripping tightly onto each of her firm ass cheeks, Draco pulled her to him harder, faster. He sucked on her bare shoulder, biting into it as he felt her clamping down on him. She was cumming, and he wasn’t far behind. 

Draco threw her backwards without warning, putting her onto her back on the ottoman. He shoved three fingers deep into her heat, pumping them furiously while the thumb on his other hand flicked her clit. Hermione cried out anew. His curled fingers pressed firmly into her g-spot while his hand weighed downward, opening her cavern to allow a stream of fluid to gush out of her for his viewing pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” Hermione whimpered, squirming underneath him. Her thighs spasmed out of her control until the moment when he finally relented, turning her on her stomach and forcing her to lay in her own mess while he entered her from behind. “Yes, yes,” Hermione groaned, nails digging into the leather upholstery as if for dear life.

He had less than a minute to slam into her before pulling out, shooting several streams of hot cum onto her opening rather than inside of it. Draco wished he had a camera so that he could forever memorialize this view, her perky little ass pointed at him, her weeping pussy covered in his sauce. But if he thought that was amazing, it was nothing to what he saw next.

Hermione turned over, returning to her back. She laughed, a euphoric response to the brief but passionate encounter. She slid one hand down her own body, between her legs, and rubbed the sticky substance, spreading it all over her lips and clit, before, to his further astonishment, bringing her sticky fingers to her mouth, and licking the messy hand clean. She lapped and sucked on each finger individually until she had removed every drop of him from the apendange. Never, in all of his encounters, with all of his witches, had he ever witnessed anything so dirty, so erotic, so fucking slutty.

“I don’t know what you’re on, but I like it,” Draco told her breathlessly, tucking himself away and doing up his pants again. He dug into his jacket and withdrew his wand, using it to clean his pants, which were soiled with her juices. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hermione answered mysteriously, sitting up at last. Her dress fell more or less back into place, though he could see the bruise he’d left on the inner curve of her breast. She leaned over and reached for something on the floor that he hadn’t noticed at first, a small bag which he assumed to contain her wand and lipstick. But it was something different entirely that she withdrew from the narrow accessory. Hermione licked her lips and opened a vial very similar to the one he’d seen her snort from earlier that night. She dipped one finger inside, scooping some of the white, almost pink powder into her nail. She extended the finger in his direction in offering.

If it weren’t for the fact that Hermione Granger was the brightest witch he’d ever met, he might not have trusted the anonymous substance. However, she was Granger, and as far as he could tell, she was having a bloody good time. He leaned in, holding her finger gingerly for stability as he pressed one nostril shut and snorted the crystally drug deeply through the other. The initial sensation was exhilarating, the sharp intake of oxygen almost dizzying. 

“Come dance with me,” Hermione invited him, tucking away the drug once more and slinging the bag over her shoulder with a long, thin chain that he hadn’t noticed originally. 

Draco held up his cigarette case. “I need some air,” he admitted to her, chuckling. It’d all happened so quickly, his heart was still pounding in his chest, struggling to return to normal now that a new element had been introduced.

“Suit yourself,” Hermione told him, moving towards the invisible door. “I need to move.” 

She disappeared, and Draco exited to the patio, enjoying a much needed cigarette. He couldn’t get the image out of his head, playing it over and over in his mind’s eye. Her, splayed out before him, touching herself, tasting his essence, licking and sucking at it like sweet nectar. He’d never witnessed such eroticism. He had to force himself to stop thinking about it, or else risk growing hard again at the mere memory.

When he was finished with his cigarette, Draco headed inside, scanning the dance floor for his sexy Gryffindor minx, but try as he might, he was never able to locate her. She’d given him the slip! Or perhaps she’d found another unsuspecting bloke to seduce. No, he didn’t prefer to think that was an option.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was several weeks before Draco returned to The Hologram. After Granger had ditched him he’d been reluctant to return. By the time the drug she’d given him had hit, he was left in the awkward position of being lost. The lights and music played tricks on him, disorienting him. He found solace on the dance floor, where there were enough young and willing female bodies to help him sweat out all of the artificial energy. 

In order to avoid being tricked by the witch again, Draco arrived at the club with a date. She was no one special, just an acquaintance who had shown interest during past meetings. She was sexy and eager to please, which was exactly what he looked for in a Saturday night companion. He took her to the bar for drinks, but Draco couldn’t help scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of the drug fueled seductress. When he didn’t see her, he was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Deciding to concentrate on his date, Draco enjoyed his night as he normally would, with drinking and dancing. When at long last he required a smoke break, Draco headed out onto the patio, where he ordered one more drink while lighting up. He took a long hit of the menthol stick before offering it to his date, who hit it as well. It was then that he saw her.

Perhaps she’d just arrived. Or more likely he just hadn’t seen her in the vast crowd of people. Either way, she was on the lap of another man, a different one than the one he’d seen her dancing with that first night. They were talking and laughing, and as if she felt his eyes on her she looked over, catching him staring at her. Draco nearly choked on the smoke in his lungs. He looked at the clock on the wall, it was a couple minutes past midnight. He wondered if that was too early to call it a night, or at the very least, take his date back to his place to escalate things. He took one more hit and then passed the cigarette back to his blonde companion.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, and headed inside. He weaved through the hundreds of bodies separating him from the loo to find a bit of relief, and once inside was pleased to find himself alone. For one blissful minute it was just him and the urinal, where emptying his bladder felt like a giant burden lifted. He’d just shaken the last drop from the tip of his dick when he realized he wasn’t alone. He looked over his shoulder and jumped, swearing. She was there, standing against the door in a short red dress that stretched when she put her stiletto clad foot against the door behind her, revealing the lace covering her where she hadn’t been covered the last time they met.

“What are you trying to do to me?” Draco asked, frustrated. Hermione giggled, actually giggled, and Draco could have screamed. It was as if he was the only witness to a whole other persona of the golden girl that everyone seemed to worship alongside Potter.

“I can leave, if you prefer,” Hermione offered, and bit her red painted lip for the sole purpose of teasing him, he was sure. Draco growled at her, feeling the primal urge to pounce on her. She kicked off of the door smoothly and moved towards him. “Or…” She let the second offer linger, unsaid, as she brushed her hand across his chest on her way into the unoccupied handicap stall. Draco followed. He wasn’t a damn fool!

He locked the stall door and quickly pressed Hermione into the wall under the window, kissing her hard. Her fingers went into his hair, manicured fingernails scratching him playfully as she moaned into his mouth. Draco squeezed her tiny waist. Having not had the chance to zip himself up, his cock was now hardening freely against her stomach. She reached one hand down and stroked it eagerly, before breaking her lips from his, panting heavily. She smirked at him while she slid down the wall, her hair sticking to the rough brick behind her creating an erotic crown as she did so. 

Draco watched, awed, as the head of his cock disappeared between her crimson lips. She sucked it hard, before opening her mouth wider and swallowing down more of his length. A chill ran up his spine as her tongue played with the length of him inside of her mouth, causing him to grow to his full rock hard potential inside of her throat. Draco assumed that her mission in getting him hard and wet was accomplished, but when she didn’t stop there, he pulled her by a fistful of hair back onto her feet, breathless from the effort of not losing himself to her hard work.

Hermione giggled again when he lifted her by the back of her thighs, pinning her against the wall once more while her legs wrapped around his waist, securing herself into place. The short dress rolled up her thighs and out of the way in the process, leaving only the thin layer of lace to separate them. With one arm wrapped securely around his neck, her other guided his ready cock to her entrance, pushing the miniscule portion of fabric out of the way.

With Hermione’s assistance, Draco pushed forward, entering her effortlessly. Hermione moaned as he filled her, stretching her tight walls, and began to join him in the effort of bouncing on his stiff rod. Draco wasn’t used to these kinds of quickies. Typically he would schmooze a girl back to his place, pour her some wine (which he infused with his own blend of potions, to ensure that she had plenty of energy to leave with when they were done), and romance her into his bedroom, before escorting her back out again. So to be here with her again, making quick, rough work of her in a bathroom stall, was a thrill all of its own.

“Yes, harder, yes!” Hermione screamed, riding him with a strength he didn’t think her small frame could possess. “Yes, I’m cumming!” she announced needlessly, as the hold she had on his cock, milking him aggressively, was announcement enough.

Draco kept going, as hard as he could, ramming her through multiple waves of pleasure before, very soon after her own climax, he could hold out no longer. “Ugh, I can’t- I’m gonna-” he tried to warn her, but the pleasure was so intense that he couldn’t get a full sentence out. He filled her, sending stream after stream of his milky seed deep into her. As he slowed to a stop, he wondered vaguely how mad she’d be. It was one thing to finish on her, but to finish in her…

He let her down carefully, not wanting her to lose her balance in those damn sexy heels. Her hand stayed on the back of his neck for additional support as she reached between her legs, righting her knickers. When she withdrew her hand, Draco was amazed to see her fingers, once again, coated in his fluid, which she must have scooped out of her dripping cunt. She made a show of sucking them clean. Merlin, what a cum slut.

“Better get back to your date,” Hermione said to him as she pulled her dress back into place. She kissed him one final time, the softest hum vibrating against his lips, before she was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was determined not to let her come and go like a phantom a third time. He showed up at the club alone again as he’d done the first time, the main headline of the Daily Prophet the morning prior still burned into his mind. “Youngest Ever Ministry Department Head: Hermione Granger, turning 21 this month, named Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures”. He wondered if there was another witch or wizard in the world who knew the Hermione Granger he knew. The drug using, cock sucking, bathroom fucking Hermione Granger that only he seemed to be privy to. He stood against the railing of the VIP lounge, overlooking the dancefloor below, scanning over the bouncing and writhing club goers. She had to be here, she just had to… There. In the center of the floor, with a silver sequin tank top and a pair of skin tight black pants that shimmered when the light touched her, danced the witch of his constant desire. And thank Merlin, for once, she was alone. 

Draco knew he had to act fast, racing through the crowd to where he’d seen her, and for once he was successful, his hand snaking around her waist the moment he reached her. She started at first, his appearance coming seemingly out of nowhere, but when she turned to see her captor, she grinned and began to move to the music in his arms.

“Congratulations,” he said loudly in her ear over the blaring music. “On the promotion, that is.” He saw her lips form a “thank you” more than he actually heard it. “We should get out of here, go celebrate,” he offered. He’d considered simply whisking her away, apparating them away to his London loft, but he figured it was more polite to ask.

Hermione didn’t answer at first, eyes closing as she let the music consume her and control the movement of her body. Finally, she turned in his arms to face him. “Alright, yeah,” she agreed. Draco got the sense that she typically went home alone, since her secret nights on the town seemed to be just that, a secret. So he was pleased that she accepted his invitation. 

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the club. He passed Zabini on the way out, who nodded his approval as they exited through the back. Draco pulled Hermione in for a brief kiss just before disapparating. They arrived inside the emergency stairwell of his building, which housed both muggle and magical occupants, and led her down the hall and into his split-flat. He didn’t see the point in maintaining a whole mansion as long as he was single. 

“What’s your drink?” Draco asked her, heading over to his fully stocked bar. Hermione tisked. 

“Do you one better.” He turned to see her withdraw a tiny tupperware container from her bag. Inside of it was what looked like a chunk of sea salt, or perhaps quartz, he couldn’t quite tell. Intrigued, joined her where she stood in front of the dining table. She pulled out the rock and a small razor blade, and he watched while she shaved away a small pile of crystalline powder, the same kind she’d given him on their first encounter. “Unless you’re scared?” she teased, looking up at him through mascara heavy lashes.

Draco gave her a look as if to say that the answer should be obvious. “What is it?” he did ask, though, since she’d never actually told him. He moved to stand just behind her, and his hands reached her hips, thumbing the elastic waistband, before he began to tug the stretchy pants down her legs.

“It’s my naughty friend, Molly,” Hermione answered, allowing Draco to continue to undress her. She rubbed her finger across the length of the blade, wiping away the residue, and flipped the blade to do the same on the other side. She lifted the finger behind her towards Draco. Draco took the bait, taking the small fingertip into his mouth and sucking on the bitter drug. “She’s a notoriously bad influence.”

“I’ll say,” Draco agreed, hardly believing that the woman standing in front of him was the same one he’d read about in the paper yesterday. It blew his mind, but at the same time, he was glad to be the one in on the secret. Draco knelt down as he pulled the leggings down. When the material gathered at her ankles he lifted one foot and discarded her shoe for her, before repeating with the other, before removing the garment altogether. “How does no one else know about you?” Draco asked while he kissed her from the back of the knee up to her smooth, firm buttocks.

Hermione laughed, enjoying the special treatment. “You’re the first one who’s recognized me.”

“What? How is that possible?” Draco’s hands each cupped one respective cheek and spread them for his viewing pleasure. He dove in quickly, his tongue seeking out her heat. 

Hermione moaned, and for a moment she forgot to answer. She bent over the table, careful not to crush the piles she’d just made with her chest. “People only see what they want to see,” she answered breathlessly. Since she was so close already, she took advantage of her proximity and snorted up one of the two piles she’d created. “So tell me, Malfoy,” she asked, trying not to lose herself to his ministrations. “Did you want to see me ther- Oh!” His tongue had made its way northward to her most forbidden opening. She rose onto her toes as they curled at the sensation.

Draco dipped his tongue into her puckered hole, licked it a couple of times, and then pushed his tongue deeper inside again. “I couldn’t have dreamed this up if I tried,” he answered her as he slipped one finger inside with a twisting motion. He was taking a risk, unsure of if she would allow him to do as he was preparing to do, but she made no move to stop him. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying it. Merlin, she was like a wet dream come true. He repeated the pattern before adding a second finger, and a third. 

Hermione had put one hand between her legs, two fingers within her soaking wet pussy with her thumb rubbing hard against her clit. She didn’t usually allow such a thing, but she was so turned on she didn’t think to stop him, and it wasn’t as though she’d never tried it before. What was the harm. She squirmed and moaned impatiently. 

Draco stepped back for just a moment, watching her finger herself as he removed his clothes. He stroked himself for a few seconds as he observed, before lining himself up at her sloppy wet entrance. Hermione withdrew her fingers immediately to make room as he replaced them inside of her, but continued to rub her swollen clit. He enjoyed her pussy for a few moments before he was satisfied that he was properly coated in her wetness. He withdrew only to realign himself at her prepared rosebud. 

Hermione braced herself against the table as he entered her in one complete motion, and selfishly helped herself to the second serving of MDMA that she’d originally prepared for him. Draco had never considered drug use to be sexy, but even he couldn’t deny the way watching her turned him on. It had to be the contradiction of it all, the fact that it was her of all witches. “Oh God,” Hermione cried out as his girth stretched out the novice muscles.

Draco built quickly into a deep, fast pace. She felt so good, and the sounds she made fueled him on as he worked. His hands splayed out across her backside, spreading her cheeks so that he could watch his cock repeatedly disappear into the taut passage. It was a glorious sight to behold. He heard Hermione’s hand slam against the table, and looked up to see her arm stretched out, grasping onto the other end of the glass plate tabletop for support.

It felt so good that Hermione didn’t even mind that her thighs were digging into the glass, or that her breasts were being flattened into it. Every couple of minutes Draco switched holes, driving her positively mad. She wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

“Yes, yes, oh!” Hermione cried out before her mouth fell open in a silent scream, steaming up the glass beneath her. Her toes curled so hard that her arches began to cramp. Draco smirked wickedly. She was cumming already, and he was only just getting started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione on her knees on his bedroom floor, holding her petite tits together while he sprayed them with thick ropes of cum, had to be Draco’s new favorite memory of all time. They’d gone a record breaking four times that night, each time stopping to do another small bump of their crystalline friend. He was becoming so hooked on her that he almost didn’t let her leave, but she insisted on spending the night in her own bed, especially since his sheets now needed changing. While he was escorting her out, she surprised him, taking hold of him just as she made to apparate home, effectively taking him with her.

“Now you know where I live, too,” Hermione whispered against his lips as she unlocked the door to her studio flat. With a playful smile, she kissed him, before disappearing behind her door and locking it behind her.

The fucking tease.

The come-down from his night with Hermione had been harsh. He couldn’t sleep, his mind was racing, as was his heart. He felt sick, and irritated. She’d said that Molly was a bad influence, and he was absolutely sure she was right. So much so that all through the week he was adamant that he would not be going back to The Hologram. However, when Saturday came around, he found himself slipping through the back entrance of The Hologram yet again. It couldn’t be helped. He was hooked.

Zabini was in the VIP booth again, which seemed to be his own personal hangout when he wasn’t actively managing the business, and he wasn’t alone. Draco approached the booth, only to realize that his mate’s female companion on this night was not one of his servers, not one of the many muggle patrons, it was her. His sneaky little witch with her clever whorish disguise. But what, in Merlin’s name, was she doing with Blaise? Draco approached the pair, who were gathered together on the couch far too closely for Draco’s liking.

“What have we here?” Draco asked, moving to sit next to Hermione, who was smiling coyly at him with her legs crossed over the lap of the tall, dark, and handsome entrepreneur. He wondered what she was playing at.

“Draco, mate, I’m glad you’re here,” Zabini said brightly. Hermione moved her legs off of him to allow him to sit forward and pour Draco a glass of scotch. “This intoxicating beauty,” he said, passing the glass over to his friend. “Is my friend, Charlotte.” He lowered his voice, leaning over the slender woman to speak more candidly. “Is she not a dead bloody ringer for Granger?”

Draco looked over at “Charlotte”, who was smirking wickedly as the dark male leaned back again. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs for what Draco guessed only served to give him a flash at her knickerless state, much like the first time they’d met. “Did you two just meet?” he asked.

Blaise sipped his drink before answering, as Charlotte cuddled back up against him. “Actually, Charlotte and I met on my opening weekend. And we had a lot of fun together, didn’t we, love?” He turned his attention to Charlotte, who smiled sweetly and allowed him to kiss her. Draco’s blood boiled. “Unfortunately, I’m usually too busy to entertain her. But you’ll keep her company, won’t you, Draco?”

Draco wanted to scream, but he kept his face as calm as possible. He lit up a cigarette, feeling his stomach turn at the implication of what Blaise had said. Granger was shagging his mate, too? How long? How frequently? How many others were there? “‘Course, mate. I’d be happy to keep her company for you.” He turned his attention to her. “It’d be my pleasure.” Oh he’d keep her company alright.

Blaise leaned over and whispered something into her ear, and she chuckled quietly, nodding. They kissed one more time, and Draco puffed on his cigarette in secret irritation, before, to his surprise, she climbed into his lap. “What’s the matter, Malfoy?” she whispered into his ear, before nibbling on his lobe. If he’d had any question if she really was some sort of doppelganger, she’d effectively removed it. “Not jealous, are you?” But before he could answer, she’d claimed his lips in a heated kiss, straddling him so that her miniscule black dress rode up her legs to almost nothing.

“Have fun you two. I’ll be back later.” Draco was vaguely aware of Blaise leaving them, but he was too preoccupied to respond.

Draco’s free hand landed on the small of her back, holding her close to him. The second rested against the back of the couch, his cigarette burning unattended. Despite his anger, he could feel himself growing hard against her. She rolled her hips, rubbing her uncovered pussy over the stiffness in his pants teasingly. Now that Blaise was gone, he broke his lips from hers.

“Charlotte?” he questioned her, unable to hold back his judgement. Hermione laughed and pushed down the top of her strapless dress, revealing her breasts for only him to see.

“Well I couldn’t exactly tell him it was me,” she reasoned, taking his cigarette out of his hand and pressing it out in the ashtray behind her. “He just assumed I was someone else, so I became someone else.” She leaned in and began to nibble on his neck. “It’s fun,” she told him, taking his hands and placing them on her perky tits.

Draco growled his frustration, but squeezed the small mounds willingly, if not a little aggressively. “Why didn’t you try to be Charlotte with me?” he asked. She’d never denied her identity to him, and he wondered why.

Hermione’s small fingers began to work the buttons on Draco’s shirt, wanting access to his smooth, hard chest. “He marveled at how much I looked like me. You knew it was me,” she told him. “I knew you wouldn’t have believed me.” She rolled her body against him, squirming like a cat in heat. Her hands smoothed up the hairless, masuline chest to hold his neck almost affectionately. She smirked down at him. “You’re not mad at me, are you?” He seemed to be. He was certainly being more stand-offish than she was used to.

Draco leaned his head up and captured her creamy smooth throat between his teeth, pinching the soft, fragile skin. Hermione moaned, the soaking wet walls of her cunt tightening around nothing with her excitement. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never been in such a situation before. He didn’t usually keep coming back to the same woman time and time again, and if he did, she usually wasn’t shagging other men on the side. Hell, he was the other man on the side. She was in a very public relationship with Ron Weasley, of all people. He’d known that all along. What he didn’t realize was that he was only one of multiple side-flings.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned into her neck as he switched to the other side, abusing the neglected skin there. He could feel her wetness now, soaking through the groin of his trousers. He wanted to positively destroy her. To show her that she didn’t need anyone else to satisfy her, that he could be enough. He had no idea why he even cared. 

“We can go back to my place if you’d like,” she offered, stretching her head back as he nibbled his way down her neck to her chest. Her hair flared out behind her, disguising their activities from the hundreds dancing just a few feet away. She cried out when he suddenly clamped down on a mouthful of breast. “Or just fuck me here,” she said, too turned on to move.

Hermione reached down with both hands and quickly opened his pants, freeing his hard cock and sliding home on top of it. She moaned as he stretched her and began moving on top of him, riding him with desperation. She didn’t care if anyone saw. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, and she felt dizzy. A bead of sweat formed and fell from her collarbone, dripping down her chest straight between her breasts and down towards her bellybutton. She could feel it, could feel the cool air as it dried the salty trail left behind. She could feel everything. She bounced on top of him harder, faster. She was moaning, panting, kissing Draco roughly in her bliss.

Draco could tell that something was different with her tonight. She was being unusually bold, her body was hot to the touch, and her heart was pounding so hard he could feel it thrumming aggressively through her veins. It was almost erratic. She was high, perhaps more high than he’d ever seen her. He put his hand on her chest so he could feel the racing muscle. “Hermione…” he tried to get her attention, seeing how entirely lost she was in the task at hand. She didn’t notice, or maybe she didn’t hear. It was then that he noticed her nose beginning to bleed. “Hermione!” he said louder, more urgently this time. He took her shoulders and shook her, finally getting her attention.

“What?” Hermione ceased her frantic riding to ask, looking at him in confusion. The shaking had dizzied her, and her eyes closed briefly as she tried to steady herself. “Malfoy…” Her eyes fell shut a second time, and when Draco shook her again, she did not respond.

“Fuck!” He began to panic. His prick, still buried inside of the unconscious girl, was beginning to soften. He lowered her onto the couch and pulled her dress back into place. “Hermione.” He tapped her face several times, before feeling for her pulse. It was still rather erratic, if not only just beginning to slow in an unsteady rhythm. He fixed his pants next. “Rennervate,” he cast on her when he found his wand, but it did nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He took his drink and, after a moment of hesitation, splashed the liquor onto her face.

Draco lifted Hermione into his arms and slipped out the back as discreetly as he could and apparated her to her apartment, glad that he’d learned last weekend where that was. He got her into her shower, stripped her dress off of her, and turned the water on, not too warm, but not too cold. He needed to wake her up, and lower her temperature and heart rate. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco’s last encounter with Hermione had given him quite a fright. Seeing her in such a state had been terrifying, and even after he got her awake, stabilized, and cleaned up, he’d still be left shaken from the overall experience. He left her tucked into her bed, and warned her that he didn’t want to see Charlotte at the Hologram again. He could tell that she was embarrassed, probably ashamed as well, but he had trouble not being mad at her, even if that made him a hypocrite, having indulged alongside her so many times before. 

When the following weekend arrived, he visited the club only to ensure that she’d kept her word. He’d searched high and low, but she was nowhere to be found. He was relieved, but his desire to stick around and enjoy the frivolity was gone, marred by the experience of having her fall unconscious on top of him. 

A few weeks passed, and Draco was sure that he’d seen the last of her. He’d cancelled his membership at his friend’s club. He didn’t have any problems finding women to date without using the vast selection of muggle slags Blaise laid out for him like a sweaty buffet. Not that he could even get it up anymore thanks to her. Not even for himself!

Tonight would be his first night on the town since Granger’s overdose episode, and thankfully he wasn’t expecting any of that kind of drama where he was going. He’d been invited to a fundraiser, a black tie affair, somewhere where he could do some good with his ungodly fortune. He did always appreciate a reason to get all dressed up. Draco looked good in a tuxedo and dress robes, of this he had no doubts, and he could use the boost after how low his affair with Granger had left him.

He arrived at the event fashionably late, a little after eleven, and for once, he felt as though he was actually in his element. He hit the bar, got himself a nice strong drink, and even chatted with a few foreign witches who were new to his charms. But even with all of that to entertain him, the night was tainted, because she was there. She, and her bloody boyfriend, along with Potter and his girl. It was positively infuriating.

She had returned to her usual Granger self, not the Charlotte personna he’d come to know. She was mostly sober, if not a few drinks in, and wore a beautiful sapphire blue gown that was shorter in the front and longer in the back. Her nylons glittered in the glow of the light, and her feet were covered in matching sapphire blue satin pumps. Her hair, rather than slick and straight, laid in elegant curls with sparkling pins littered throughout, complimenting the bedazzled pantyhose. Her makeup was simple, tasteful, but she still had those crimson red lips that he remembered so clearly wrapping around the head of his engorged cock. She avoided his gaze as much as she could, but he could tell that she was watching him, all while clinging to the arm of her imbecile boyfriend.

The night carried on and they continued to regard each other as strangers. There were dozens of other witches and wizards to interact with, which made ignoring each other’s presence easy. Draco placed a few bids in the silent auction, and as it neared midnight, he thought he might call it a night. He wasn’t feeling very enthused, and none of these witches were bringing him any excitement. He couldn’t help but think Granger was to blame for that. Their trysts had been so thrilling, so forbidden, that the normal hookup just didn’t appeal the same way. He got one last drink at the bar, before making his way to the coat room.

He found it rather pedestrian that there was no one managing the coat room, and he had to go sorting through the room himself in search of a coat that looked exactly like all the others. 

“You’re leaving already?” Her soft voice was barely above a whisper, but it sent chills down Draco’s spine. He looked to the floor on his left and was met with a pair of blue satin shoes. His gaze moved upward until, for the first time that night, his eyes met hers.

“Guess I’m just not having any fun,” Draco told her truthfully. He suspected she’d ruined “fun” for him. 

Hermione turned her face downward and frowned, and it wasn’t a pouty, playful kind of frown like he’d seen from her in recent past. “Please don’t go yet.” 

Draco couldn’t help himself. He reached one hand out, lifting her chin to make her look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Hermione was still reluctant to meet his eye. Without the MDMA in her system, she once again knew shame. But she’d followed him into this room for a reason, and it was too late and she was too stubborn to turn away now. “He’s going to ask me to marry him tonight,” she told him. “And I’m going to say yes.” The confession made her eyes burn with tears.

The most obvious question Draco wanted to ask was why, but he didn’t think that would be helpful. “So what are you doing in here with me?” he asked plainly.

“This is my last night, Draco. After tonight I’ve agreed to be his.” Her leg began to bounce nervously and she looked away from him to avoid his judgemental gaze.

“And you want me to fuck you one more time, is that it?” Draco said, probably more harshly than he meant to. He turned her face to him once more, wanting her to look him in the eyes while she begged him.

“Something like that.” 

Draco cupped her face in one hand, wishing so desperately to deny her, but who was he kidding? He’d never turned away a ready woman before, and he wouldn’t tonight, either. He caught her in a bruising kiss, and backed her into a rack of coats. His free hand went between them, slipping under the shortest part of her dress and finding the waist of her nylons, sliding easily underneath them and her thong underwear, which he pushed aside easily.

Hermione whimpered against his lips as she felt two fingers enter her, pumping in and out of her frantically, working her cunt into a lather. She broke her lips from his to moan, and her hands reached for his belt, knowing that the sooner she freed him from his pants, the sooner he could be inside of her. Draco withdrew his hand and allowed her to continue her mission in getting him out of his pants, and as soon as her fingers reached his only barely rising member, he leaned towards her and spoke into her ear.

“With your mouth.” Maybe he was punishing her, or maybe he was genuinely concerned that he would be unable to rise to the occasion. Either way, she was quick to fall to her knees, kneeling before him as she took his mostly flaccid cock into her mouth. Draco sighed in relief when it began to come to life at her oral ministrations. He allowed her to continue, which she did eagerly, until he reached full mass, before pulling her back to her feet. He spun her around and pushed his pants down to his thighs, before gathering the skirt of Hermione’s dress and shoving it roughly to one side. 

Hermione held onto the coat rack in front of her with one hand, the other bracing herself against the wall between two coats. She gasped when she felt her favorite pantyhose torn roughly, creating a large opening for him to enter her through. He wasn’t typically so rough with her, but she reasoned she probably deserved it. She could feel him aligning himself. Could feel him slapping his cock against her ass for no more reason than to humiliate her, and then finally, at long last, he pushed into her roughly. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out.

She might not have looked like the Hermione Granger he was so used to having his way with, but Merlin, she still felt the same. The same tight grip. The same shallow passageway. The same slick fluids lubricating his efforts. He wrapped one arm low around her waist, the other landing on top of hers on the rack. He thrust into her hard, quick, equally determined to enjoy their final hurrah and to get it over with. They were on borrowed time. At any moment someone could come looking for their coat. Hermione began to moan, and Draco quickly moved his hand away from hers to cover her mouth. 

Even with his hand covering her mouth it was getting hard to muffle the sounds of pleasure escaping her. She was cumming, and if she had it her way she’d have taken him with her. He was getting close, fueled by his anger towards her, but he knew how he wanted to end this night, on his terms and only his. When she had stilled from the shockwaves of her climax, Draco pulled out, and utilized both of his hands to further tear her stockings. Hermione gasped loudly with her surprise, and barely had enough sense to muffle her scream when Draco entered her ass without warning. She bit the nearest coat sleeve hard as he pounded into her, just long enough to finish.

Draco emptied load after thick load into her seldom entered cavity. When at last he hadn’t a drop left to give her, Draco stepped away and quickly put his pants back into place, tucking his shirt back into place. “This won’t happen again, Granger.” He told her, more gently now that he’d found his first release in several weeks. As one final gesture towards the witch, he cast a repairing charm on her hosiery, and fixed her dress back into place.

Hermione turned around, smoothing out her dress and fluffing out her curls. “I know,” she answered simply, unable to look at him. She could feel his seed, her thong holding the thick substance inside of her. She’d need to utilize the loo immediately to get rid of it. “For what it’s worth, Malfoy,” she said, trying to put on a brave face. “It’s been fun.”

As Draco watched her leave, there was only one thing he was absolutely sure of; it would most certainly happen again.


End file.
